Douleur Avec Plaisir
by crazybeagle
Summary: Pain has a funny way of reminding you that you're still alive. A short continuation of my story "To Feel", following Elphaba and Fiyero on their way to Ix.
1. Part One: Fiyero

**Douleur Avec Plaisir**

**Part One- Fiyero**

_**This will be a two-shot continuation of my story "To Feel." I wanted to explore peculiar situation in which I left Elphaba and Fiyero at the end of that story. This takes place as they're traveling through the Impassable Desert to get to Ix. The first chapter focuses on Fiyero and the second chapter will focus on Elphaba, so stay tuned, kids!**_

_**And thank you so much, everyone who nominated/voted for me and my stories in the 3****rd**** Annual Wicked Fanfiction Awards! This is my gift to you. **_

_**Dedicated to DeeplyShallow, because she encouraged me to start working on my Wicked stuff again. But if you like the shows Bones or Angel, you can go check out what I was working on in the meantime!**_

_Pain. It has a funny way of reminding you that you're still alive. _

This had been Fiyero's mantra for the past three months. Ever since he'd become himself again. And he clung to it even now, as he suddenly found his body being flung from the broom and hurtling towards the earth, the air whooshing past him at an alarming rate as the golden ground rushed up to meet him. He braced himself for the impact seconds before he crashed hard into the sand.

Suddenly, he was lying flat on his back, little lights exploding on the edges of his vision as the air was knocked from his lungs. A white-hot explosion of pain exploded along his spine and shot down one of his legs. He lay there for a moment, dazed, unable to do anything but blink up at the cloudless sky, bile rising to the back of his throat.

He vaguely registered a noise coming off from somewhere to his right. He closed his eyes, not caring, for the time being, what the source of the sound was.

But seconds later, he realized what the sound was, and his eyes snapped open.

Elphaba.

He coughed a little, trying to get his breath back so he could call out to her as he struggled to prop himself up on his elbows to look around. As his back and leg throbbed in protest a second time, he almost fell back down.

He heard her again…this time he was sure he knew what the sound was. It was groaning. "Elphaba?" he called.

Then he saw her. She was lying on the ground about twenty feet from him, her back turned towards him. He called her name again and she stirred, rolling slowly onto her stomach and raising her head to look over at him. He smiled at her, but her eyes got huge when she saw him.

She struggled to her feet and ran over to him. He noted that she was favoring one foot and that she held the back of her neck with one hand. She dropped to her knees when she reached him.

"Yero, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" Her eyes scanned his body, checking for injuries. Her hands immediately started undoing the leather laces of his back brace so she could make sure.

He allowed himself to fall back onto the sand, but he stared pointedly at her. "Are _you_?"

She shrugged, wincing as she did so. "Well, nothing's broken, as far as I can tell." She gently pulled the back brace off of him and moved onto the brace on his left leg.

"You're sure?" he pressed.

"As sure as I can be. That's not to say I won't have a lovely collection of bruises in the morning. Did _you_ break anything?"

"I certainly hope not," he said as her fingers gently made their way up and down his leg.

She helped him turn over onto his stomach so that she could conduct the same examination on his back, skilled hands sliding beneath his shirt to feel out the length of his spine.

"Where'd the broom go?" he asked after a moment.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Hopefully not far. I'll go find it in a moment."

"What happened?"

"Again, I wish I knew," she said, helping him turn back over once she was satisfied that he was, for the most part, unscathed. "I just don't understand it. I mean, there isn't even any wind today, really. And we just get flung out of the sky by some random gust that came out of nowhere."

He laughed. "Well I thought it was fun. Let's do it again."

She rolled her eyes, but was unable to conceal her grin. "Alright, smartass. I'm going to go find the broom. And hopefully the provisions as well, or else we're going to be in _really_ bad shape. You stay put."

"That I can do," he said, waving her off. Once she was gone, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, afraid that he was going to be sick. No, nothing was broken. But that didn't stop it from hurting like hell.

A few minutes later, she trotted back to him, several bags slung over her back, the broom in one hand and his crutches in another.

"We're in luck," she called. "I found everything."

"Excellent," he said as she refastened his braces. "Should we press on, then?"

"No." She took his hands, pulling him to his feet, and handed him the crutches. "I was thinking we'd call it a day."

"Good idea," he said, trying to get his bearings on the sandy ground. The desert was not an ideal place to be using crutches.

Elphaba mounted the broom after re-fastening the provisions to its back end. "Here," she said, helping him get on the broom behind her. "I think I saw a place up ahead where we could stop. After what just happened, I'm not so sure if I'm up for pitching the tent tonight, so if we can find someplace decent let's just camp in the open."

"What kind of place is it?" he asked. He slid his arms around her waist. "If there's water, great, because we're running out, but we shouldn't camp too close. Anywhere there's water in a place like this means there's bound to be some wild animals nearby."

"No, it's more like a big boulder," she said with a sigh. "It's a few miles ahead."

"That works too." He chuckled. "I don't think this place even knows the meaning of the word 'oasis'."

"But we'll definitely have to find water soon," she added firmly. "And I don't know about you, but I need a bath."

He shrugged, enjoying the light breeze on his face as they flew low over the sand. "I'd like one too, but we're weeks away from civilization in any direction, so honestly it doesn't matter all that much whether you bathe or not."

"I guess not," she muttered, "but there's you."

"You're seriously worried about that?"

"A little," she confessed. "I never really had to think about it before, because it wasn't like you could..." she trailed off, sounding as though she feared she was being insensitive.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "There's nothing to worry about, love. Remember, this goes both ways, so frankly, it's me who should be worried. As a rule, men smell worse than women at any given moment."

She laughed. "Especially in school, when you wore so much of that god-awful cologne that I could hardly stand to be around you."

"But…" he began, pretending to sound hurt. "But I always thought you liked it."

"No, Yero. I liked you _despite_ the cologne."

He sighed huffily and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Well in that case, I hope you enjoy the new, improved, _unwashed _me."

"Always."

***

By the time they reached their camp site, it was late afternoon and the sun was beating down upon everything with a fury. Both of them were badly sunburned, though Fiyero hardly saw how that was possible. The color of Elphaba's skin had always warded off sunburn, and she had spent the past five years under a blistering desert sun. He himself had grown up in the hottest, driest part of Oz, and the only thing that had ever happened to him when he spent time in the sun was that his already tanned skin grew a few shades darker. But Elphaba's skin was now tinged with a sickly olive color, and his own was flushed with splotchy red. The skin that surrounded the long scar that stretched across half of his face, already sensitive enough anyway, stung horribly.

Elphaba set up camp, moving slower than usual because she was presumably still sore from earlier. Fiyero felt a familiar guilty twinge as he watched her work- even now that he was human again, he was of absolutely no use to her when it came to things like this. Regardless of her attempts to persuade him otherwise, he often felt like he was only a hindrance to her, especially now that she was determined to nurse him through what promised to be an excruciatingly long recovery, concerning herself over wounds that would never truly heal. And if he could hardly take care of himself, then he sure as hell couldn't do much to take care of _her._

The next order of business, much to their relief, was to smear themselves with gratuitous amounts of the goopy aloe paste that Madame Frost had forced them to pack in excessive quantities in order to soothe sunburn. Beneath the merciful shade of the boulder, which was roughly the size of a two-story building, Elphaba stripped down to her cotton shift and tied her heavy hair back into a loose bun, and Fiyero took off both braces, his boots, and his shirt. Together, they managed to cover themselves with the aloe, which eased the burn that had spread from their faces and necks even down to their shoulders, chests, backs, and arms, despite the fact that they always made sure to stay covered while out in the open.

It took Elphaba several minutes to carefully spread the paste around the thick, ropey scars that covered his back. At one point, her fingers met a particularly tender area, and he immediately flinched away from her.

"Easy, love," she murmured. He felt her fingers move more gingerly. After a few moments of silence, he heard an agitated sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He frowned. "You know, you don't have to- Uh, I mean, you can stop now if you want to."

"No, it's not that, Yero. I just-" She ran a finger lightly across his shoulder, tracing one of the scars. "These should be mine."

He stiffened. "No, they shouldn't." She remained silent, and his shoulders drooped. "And I'd never, ever want them to be," he added softly.

"But-"

"Fae, we've discussed this. No regrets. Aside from having lied to you about it, I wouldn't have things any other way."

Her hand dropped, and he slowly turned himself around to look at her. He caught a glimpse of her pursed lips and her wide, glassy eyes before she turned away from him, digging determinedly through one of their packs. He thought he saw a tear land on the bag's soft leather surface.

He ran a hand through his hair, troubled. He doubted she'd ever accept the fact that hers was a life worth saving.

"Here," she said abruptly a moment later, thrusting a small bottle of amber liquid into his hands.

He sighed. "I thought we were going to see whether I could do without it."

She glared at him, her expression now hard. "But you fell."

"So did you," he pointed out, looking at her ankle. But he knew she was right. Between the fall and the sunburn, he could hardly bear to move at all right now.

"It's probably a just little sprain," she said, shrugging him off. "I'll deal with it later." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Now drink that."

"All of it?"

"Yes, all of it." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you're like a six-year-old who doesn't want to eat his vegetables when it comes to this stuff."

"Alright, you win," he said, uncorking the bottle. "But afterwards…" He gave her a lopsided smile.

"But what?"

"You know what," he said, his grin broadening. "You said yourself that I taste good after I drink this stuff." Her resolve began to crumble, and he saw a little smile tug at the corners of her lips. He decided to push the envelope a little. "And just think: after I have a whole bottle of it, I'll feel nice and refreshed…for hours and hours…"

She snorted. "Cad."

"Guilty as charged."

"Now drink."

He obeyed, grimacing as the fiery liquid seared his mouth, nose, and throat. But within seconds of finishing it came an instantaneous feeling of coolness, lightness, and relief. Release, even. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, savoring the feeling.

"Better now?" Elphaba asked, resting a hand on his arm.

"Oh yes."

"Good," she said matter-of-factly, leaning in and kissing him. "Because I actually rather like the idea of you being all 'nice and refreshed' right about now."

His arms slid around her back, pressing her body to his as he kissed her deeply. He could taste the aloe, fresh and sweet, on her lips, and feel the strong drumming of her heart against his own chest.

At long last, she pulled away, his faced cupped in her hands. She was smiling wryly at him.

"What?" he asked, unable to keep the grin off his own face.

She cocked her head to one side, studying him. "You need to shave," she observed.

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

***


	2. Part Two: Elphaba

_**Doleur Avec Plaisir**_

_**Part Two: Elphaba**_

_**I actually got to go see Wicked yesterday for the first time! All I'd ever seen was a Youtube recording, and while that had the OBC in it, it was totally mind-blowing onstage. C'est magnifique. **_

_May it be an evening star shines down upon you_

_May it be when darkness falls, your heart will be true_

_When the night is overcome, you may rise to find the sun…_

_-Enya_

Elphaba Thropp couldn't sleep. She could only stare up at the sky- tonight a cloudless, inky black- restless, the threadbare blanket drawn up to her chin. Thousands of stars glittered down at her, surrounding an abnormally large moon that lit up the earth below like a silvery lantern. Practically every constellation she had ever learned was visible tonight, clear and vibrant like a cluster of cold, hard diamonds. For the past several years, such a sight had always been a great comfort to her; this cosmic map was one of the few dependent, unchangeable things in her life. She'd used the night sky for navigational purposes, both in her time as the Witch and in the deserts with Fiyero. As long as she could see the stars, she could always find her way.

So usually, a sky like this would ease her worries and help her get some sleep. But tonight, like many she'd spent thus far in the Impassable Desert, it did little to console her. Her eyes drifted to the North Star, clear as ever and winking softly back at her, which pointed the way towards their final destination- Ix. Here was a star that beckoned them on to… _To what? _Fiyero would say a new life, a new start, or something equally optimistic, but for her it was simply an unknown. An unknown that terrified her more than she would ever admit.

Feeling sick, she shifted in Fiyero's arms, turning away from the star and squeezing her eyes shut. _Sleep_, she commanded herself. Part of her- the sensible, practical part- knew that it would not do to go yet another night without getting an adequate amount of rest, especially since she was sore all over from falling off the broom earlier that day. And from other, more pleasurable activities, which had taken place earlier that evening… She knew from experience, though, that no matter what she told herself, sleep wouldn't come on a night like this.

The day's breeze had picked up into a steady wind, and though the boulder by which they'd camped shielded them from the worst of it, every now and then a cold blast reached around it to chill them. The winds here were extremely volatile, and her years of flying through the Ozian skies had hardly prepared her for it. With only one broom in tow, and with Fiyero still on the mend, she knew that she could not afford a second of carelessness. Today's flight had shown her the titanic, unruly power of these strange winds- they'd been cast down from the sky as easily as ragdolls, the broom torn effortlessly from her grasp in an instant.

A sudden gust of frigid air whooshed over her, and she shuddered, trying to draw the blanket even closer around them both. Though this place was always sweltering during the day regardless of the season, it wasn't even spring yet, which made their nights very cold. Elphaba smiled ruefully as she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs in a vain attempt to stay warm, remembering what Fiyero had said last night- _There should be a law against weather that sunburns you and freezes you to death all in the same day…_

Elphaba felt Fiyero shiver a bit in his sleep as the wind drifted over them once more. Giving up on sleep altogether, she turned in his arms to look at him. Nighttime was the only time when she could really look at him for very long without making him uncomfortable- whenever she stared for more than a second or two, he had a tendency to fidget and look down. She guessed that anybody would, if they'd spent several years as something nonhuman. She did her best to respect that, but she couldn't describe what a joy and a relief it was for her to see his face- his _human _face, something she'd been sure that neither of them would ever see again. And no matter how difficult he knew things were going to be for him for the rest of his life, he was genuinely thrilled about having been changed back. That helped to assuage her guilt about how disastrously things had gone wrong…somewhat. And even now, years later, looking at him brought back her pure awe at the fact that he'd actually chosen _her_ over the easy life he'd had, over power, wealth, prestige…over Glinda.

She pulled the blanket up to cover his bare shoulders. But cold or not, she knew he wasn't likely to wake up. She often teased him that he slept like a rock, but the reason for that, she suspected, was that this journey was wearing him out more than he'd admit. She could see that in his face even now. He was thinner and even in his sleep she could see shadows around his eyes. The reversal had restored his body to exactly the way it was before she'd done the spell…beaten and left for dead, and just twenty-two years old. But looking at him now, it was not easy to tell that he was any younger than he was supposed to be. Fatigue and exhaustion had seemingly negated the extra years he'd been given. Her eyes lingered on the scar, still red and healing, that cut across the stubble on his cheek, and she sighed. Any chance that she could just lie in his arms and pretend that everything was the way it should be, and that he didn't need braces or crutches or potions, and that he'd never had to suffer for her, was blotted out by that thin scarlet line.

_But at least one of us is sleeping, _she thought, her fingers reaching up and gently coming to rest on his chest, which was rising and falling with an even, peaceful rhythm. It relaxed her a bit and she closed her eyes once more, but the thoughts still whirring around in her mind refused to be overcome by drowsiness. It occurred to her that at this point, even if she did manage to drift off, she'd probably just be jolted awake by a nightmare. That always tended to happen to her if she thought too much about troubling things before bed. It was then, in her dreams, that her all-too-creative subconscious would conjure a series of terrifying worst-case-scenarios for anything and everything that weighed heavily on her heart. The most frequently recurring ones, which she'd been having ever since she'd defied the Wizard, always involved getting caught somehow and dragged back to Emerald City, where certain death awaited her. Her mind always managed to conjure horrifying images of capture and captivity. She'd sometimes wake up screaming, her mind full of sickening pictures of chains, blood, and darkness. Not that such dreams were rational, especially not anymore, but that never stopped them from coming.

And that wasn't the only type of nightmare she'd have.

Dead Animals.

Dead Glinda.

And, of course…

Ever since they'd left Frost's house, her dreams frequently brought her back to that tiny, dimly lit bedroom with its low rafters and rough wood floor. And she'd find herself holding Fiyero's limp hand, desperately biting back her panic and pleading with him, unconscious and deathly pale as he was, to stay with her.

And as irrational as _that_ one was, it always took awhile upon waking to convince herself that everything was alright, and that she'd never have to see him like that again. He was going to be fine, or as damn close to fine as he could get. She would make sure of it, no matter how embarrassed or exasperated he got whenever she fussed over him.

Elphaba shifted again, wincing when her the sharp edges of her silver pendant dug into her chest slightly. She grabbed it and held it up against the sky, observing the way the moon and stars were reflected in its polished surface. It was a charm that Frost had given her, spelled to ward off pregnancy.

_Pregnancy…_

Yet another thing that she'd really rather not be thinking about. Pregnancy meant family, and "family" was a term that made her nauseous.

What kind of a life would _she_ be able to offer a child? Despite all of the basic things that she and Fiyero lacked as of now and had no guarantee of ever finding- some sort of house, a source of income, and some guarantee of safety and security-she hardly knew the meaning of the word "family." All her father and sister had ever taught her about family was how _not _to act like a family. The prospect of starting one of her own filled her with terrible foreboding, as though it was doomed to be yet another thing in her life at which she was destined to fail.

Fiyero, on the other hand, seemed quite unconcerned about the notion of having children. In fact, he found it genuinely exciting, and she couldn't help but thinking that he'd make a far better father than she would a mother. Certainly a more confident one.

Their discussions of raising a family had begun back in Iron Town. It was Fiyero who had done the talking, for the most part, covering everything right down to potential baby names. She'd stayed quiet through most of it, smiling and nodding in all the appropriate places and trying not to feel ill. But one day, while headed downstairs to help Frost prepare supper, she'd been confronted by Tobias, who was often present during her and Fiyero's conversations. And apparently, she wasn't so good at disguising her discomfort as she'd thought.

The conversation had been brief, but she vividly remembered one bit of advice he'd given her.

"Between you and wonderboy up there," he'd said, "there's love enough to go around. And that's all that truly matters, so don't get yourself all worked up over nothing, Lady Witch. Things will pan out."

She'd allowed that to placate her for the time being, not wanting to press somebody who had lost his entire family for anything more specific. And she was a bit too intimidated by Madame Frost in general to consider going to her with such concerns.

She tried to steer her train of thought away from the subject of family, and was idly beginning to wonder if Frost and Tobias had reached the Emerald City yet when she felt Fiyero kick her leg, hard. She grimaced as his foot collided with her sore ankle. His body jerked against hers. She looked up at his face. His eyes were wide open and panicked.

"Yero?" she whispered.

He blinked a few times, confused. He was breathing hard. After a moment, his eyes found hers and he nodded slowly.

"Bad dream?" she asked gently.

"Uh…" he began, looking even more bewildered. "I don't really remember." His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to him. "I guess I'm still not used to having dreams yet," he muttered. "Sorry for waking you."

"It's alright," she assured him, not feeling the need to mention that she'd been awake. "Go back to sleep, love." They lapsed into silence. He closed his eyes.

Several minutes later, she could tell by his breathing that he was still awake.

"I can't sleep," he said, sounding agitated.

She smirked. "Join the club."

"It's because it's so damn cold out here," he said.

"I could go get our clothes and that extra blanket," she offered.

"I can think of a few more interesting things we could do instead." Mischief danced in his eyes, and he looked so much like the Fiyero she'd known at Shiz that she had to smile.

"You should really get to sleep, Yero," she told him, though she knew already that it was a lost battle.

"I've already told you I can't, Fae, and neither can you. And by the time we're done, we'll be both be plenty warm and tired, and you won't even have to get up." He grinned triumphantly, sensing he'd won.

She sighed melodramatically, feigning frustration. "Alright then, fine. It seems I've been bested by your irrefutable logic."

***

Sometime later, she found herself securely encircled in Fiyero's arms and nodding off, her eyes lazily scanning the starry sky. As unsettling a sight as they'd been to her earlier in the night, right now she couldn't help but find them quite beautiful. In fact, for the first time in a long time, she found that her brain was blissfully empty of the thoughts that had plagued her earlier, and in her heart there was nothing but peace. It was a curious feeling that defied all reason, but right now, she could let herself believe that everything was truly going to be alright.

***

**And thus concludes this tale, my friends.**


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